Double the Scars
by Zoey Poison
Summary: Young Emily moves to Gotham and shows up at a library, where she sees a gorgeous blond reading a book. She is then given an enormous book written by the old woman at the library, which is about the blonde's life including her relationship with the Joker
1. From Bludhaven to Gotham

**NOTICE:**

**Before I begin, I am going to continue writing 'To Create is to Destroy', but I suddenly got the idea for this story as well, so I wrote it up quickly and I do hope you all appreciate this story as much as you did the other.**

**I told you I was crazy. Maybe all I do is write nowadays!**

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Chapter One.

There were several honks and shouts from behind the car that the brunette-headed girl was in. She'd been daydreaming, thinking of things that were far out of her control. Havoc was being wreaked upon in the place she was headed to. The girl was born in Blüdhaven and lived there her entire life. But now, in her car, she was on her way to Gotham City. That new location was just north of Blüdhaven. The female had heard many rumors of the larger city, and how the Joker had been terrorizing it for quite a while now. She gulped and could only hope that she wouldn't run into the madman.

The honks behind her were probably doing so because the light she'd been at had turned a lovely shade of brilliant green. The color made her think of the green hair on the Joker, she'd been staring at pictures of him on the computer back at Blüdhaven. Her grandmother, who she lived with at the time, had a nice little house in the residence area of the city. Now that her grandmamma passed away due to old age, she was going off on her own and moving far away from Blüdhaven.

But even now as she drove down the paved roads, she couldn't recall his face very clearly. She remembered seeing two black blobs on his face and the green hair, but everything else seemed to have escaped her. Perhaps finding her grandmother, the only person in her life at that time, dead on the living room floor was too much of a shock for her. It suppressed memories and that moment in her life would be unforgettable.

The silence in the car was really starting to unnerve the girl. She reached her honey-tanned arm to the radio and flicked it on. Old, classic music flooded into her ears and she felt her eyes begin to water. This had been her grandma's car, so naturally her grandmother would have her own choice of music set for whenever the radio was flicked on. It was her favorite radio station, the girl knew from so many rides in the car. But now, the brunette couldn't stand hearing it. She felt unclean as each small blow of a trumpet flooded into her ears. Quickly, she pressed a recall button and the station was switched to something else. It was a sickly sweet, acoustic station. She leaned back into her seat with a sigh and continued to drive on. Eventually, she drove so far that she passed the big sign that read 'Welcome to Gotham City' on it. The brunette quickly drove to the apartment building she looked up from her grandma's house, which had already been rented out by her via credit card. She had a bunch of her things in the backseat of the car as well as the trunk.

It didn't take long to find the apartment. She pulled into the parking lot and parked the car relatively close to the tall building. Staring up at the height of the place made her feel absolutely tiny. She was pretty relieved that the very little amount of baggage she had was in either small bags or packed in luggage with wheels. That certainly made it easier to carry it up if her room was on a high floor.

Entering the apartment building, she was greeted by a rush of warm air and several smiling, curious faces. Her arms were covered by bags and a young man walked over to her with a small, sly smile on his face. His hair was a dark black and he had dark eyes as well. The girl forced a grin and stared down at her arm as a bag was threatening to fall. The male caught the bag before it hit the ground. "Hello ma'am. My name is Jeff; may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" His politeness caught the brunette off guard and another bag tumbled toward the ground, but was cut short when Jeff caught that one too. The girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously but stuck out her hand from beneath the bags. "Emily Willows." She said simply, and she turned and snatched her bags from his arms and walked to the counter. Emily smiled at the receptionist and told spoke her name, hoping to be given a room number and key. She did so and got the key and room number, then turned around and groaned out loud to see Jeff right behind her with his arms behind his back and his eyes watching her patiently. Emily gave him a slight nod before waddling to the elevator.

"Do you need help with your bags? I'd be more than happy to assist you." He said, and Emily stared him down. Jeff almost seemed desperate, as if him helping would save him from being killed or something. Emily scoffed and continued on her short journey to the elevator. She pressed the up arrow and smiled when it lit up, ignoring the eager boy beside her. He cleared his throat as she waited for the elevator.

"I really wouldn't mind helping you." He insisted. Emily only sighed and rolled her eyes at him, tossing him the two bags he caught earlier. Jeff smiled smugly and the brunette girl just glared at him. He had already proven to be majorly annoying and Emily hadn't even been in the building for five minutes yet.

The elevator suddenly opened and several people filed out. When they were all gone, Emily stepped in and Jeff followed as well. The girl scanned the floor buttons and looked down at the piece of paper. It said 'E-22', so Emily pressed the E button, assuming that was what it meant. The elevator quickly flew upwards, causing Emily to lose her balance for a moment. She regained it and noticed Jeff looking at her with that same smile on his face. Emily wanted so badly to wipe it off but she knew that it'd seem suspicious if she left the elevator with a beaten up man, who hadn't been bruised and beaten before the elevator ride. Emily grinned darkly to herself, just thinking about him being bruised made her want to do it even more. But just as Emily was about to turn around and sock that annoying guy right in the face, the elevator door slid open and she rushed out in a hurry, scampering around and looking for room E-22. Right in front of her was E-1, and she turned down a long hallway. It appeared that this hallway was where the thirties were, and she followed them down to the end as the thirties got closer to twenties. She counted down until she got to twenty-nine, then twenty-eight, twenty-seven, and down. By E-23, she was excited and at E-22 she nearly squealed with joy.

Emily stuck the key into the hole and turned. The door clicked and she assumed it was unlocked, so she turned the doorknob and shoved. The door opened without much of a push, leaving Emily glad. It meant that late at night, she would probably be coming home from a long day at work and wouldn't have to strain her tired muscles just to open a door. The door on her grandmother's house back at Blüdhaven had been the complete opposite, which was why that had been a huge issue for her. This door seemed relatively new though, which just made Emily that much happier. Jeff walked into her room after her, placing the bags down on the floor and shoving his hands into his pockets. Emily threw her own bags near his and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to leave. But, he didn't. She sighed, wishing she had declined his offer to carry her bags. It would have made everything so much easier. Now the guy thought that he was her friend. Emily growled quietly to herself. That would not be happening.

"You can leave now." She said in a cruel tone. It caught Jeff off guard and he widened his eyes at her. "Are you sure? You don't want help unpacking?" he asked hopefully. Emily shut her eyes and rubbed her temples. This guy was frustrating, couldn't he take a hint? Her green eyes opened again and she pasted a sickly sweet smile on her face. "Jeff," she began, taking a small step toward him. "You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment before I _make you_ get out of my apartment." Emily clenched her fists and Jeff backed out of the apartment in surprise. He tripped over his own shoes clumsily and fell onto the rug outside of her door. The brunette slammed the door and locked it, grumbling as she made her way over to her bags.

Emily dragged her bags toward the big bed in the other room. She threw them all on top of it and started unpacking, placing clothes in the dresser on the opposite site of the room and setting up her makeup and hair knick-knacks on the vanity and in its drawers. She walked to the bathroom and placed down her toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash. In the cupboard she put some jars of pills for headaches and other purposes. When everything seemed to be set up in her little house, she stuffed the empty bags and suitcases under her bed and rummaged through what little money she had. There were no books in the house and Emily decided that needed to change. She stuffed a few bucks in her pocket and brought her credit card as well, then took off out the door. She avoided any signs of black hair because it would no doubt be Jeff gallivanting around, and he would probably follow her all over town if he could.

Outside, her car was parked in the same spot as where she left it. Emily climbed into the driver's seat and started on her way to the library. Before leaving Blüdhaven, she stared and stared at the map of Gotham for hours and hours to try to memorize it. That's the only reason how she knew where the library was. Moments later, she arrived and walked inside the enormous, Victorian-looking building.

"Hello and welcome to the Gotham Library. Is there anything I can help you with?" an old woman with brown hair, showing signs of an early graying asked Emily. Emily looked around and shook her head. "Not for now, maybe later." The old woman nodded and moved on to the next person who was walking into the building.

Emily walked to a big row of fictional books. She scanned them until finding a book called Wuthering Heights, written by Emily Bronte. The brunette smiled and turned around to check out another section of books, when she saw the most magnificent woman she'd ever laid eyes on. The woman was sitting on the other end of the library, her beautiful eyes scanning a book as she sat in one of the many red-brown chairs. Her hair was in gorgeous ringlet curls of the combination of strawberry blond and yellow hair. It almost looked like pure golden honey, curled in sweet wisps and leaving a delicious result. Her skin was porcelain and smooth. There were no blemishes anywhere on her body, which was perfectly proportioned. She had the body of a pixie but the face of a supermodel, although her facial features were that of a dazzling little fairy. Now, Emily was one hundred percent straight, but any normal person, female or male, would feel compelled to learn about this impressive goddess.

The brunette felt ugly in comparison to the glorious being over yonder, and she walked to the check-out lady once again. "Hello," she said, feeling strangely uplifted. "Do you know anything about the people in this library?" The old woman smiled knowingly and nodded. "In fact, I do. I've been around for awhile and most people who come here, come here all of the time." Emily's face brightened up and she grinned at the woman. "So you would know about that woman?" she asked, pointing to the blonde beauty. The old woman's face drained of color and she cleared her throat.

"That woman," she started. "Is a menace." Emily's eyes widened. How could that be true? Someone so beautiful and sweet-looking… it seemed highly abnormal for her to be able to cause trouble on someone. The woman continued on. "Yes, she is beautiful. She is probably the most beautiful thing anyone in this city has ever seen, including playboy Bruce Wayne. He's been lusting after her for awhile." The old woman, whose name-tag read Ruby, inhaled and took Emily's book from her, scanning it and then giving it back. A piece of paper was on it that read 'Due on February 12'. That was exactly a month later.

"But naturally, since almost every man was in love with her, of course she would be trouble." The woman talked in a hushed voice. "One day, she was minding her own business in the park, reading one of the books from this library actually." The woman gestured around her when she said library. "The Joker just so happened to be in the same park, and he saw her. But his world didn't crumple at the sight of her like everyone else's did." The woman stopped talking and Emily waited for her to continue, but she didn't. "And so what happened?!" she asked, intrigued. The old woman looked up as if she didn't know what she was asking, and then she held out a huge, thick book. Emily stared at it in puzzlement. "What's this?" she questioned. Ruby smiled.

"This," she began. "is a book I wrote about that woman's life. It hasn't been published, but I was a counselor before and so the woman told me everything, and I mean everything. If you really want to know about her, read this." Emily stared at it skeptically. "Isn't this an invasion of privacy?! You were her counselor! That is confidential stuff." Emily whispered furiously. The old woman shook her head. "When you read it, you'll understand why it isn't wrong for me to write about. It made a very intriguing story, and you will no doubt be absorbed in it until it's completely over."

Emily hesitantly looked behind her shoulder and then checked the book out, hurried out the door and into her car. She drove home, glancing at the book as it sat in the passenger's seat. "Wait until you get home," she mumbled to herself. It didn't take long to arrive at the apartment complex. She avoided Jeff as she walked to her room with the two books under her arm, one sort of small (Wuthering Heights) and the other one, thick as could be. Unlocking her door, she stepped in and locked it quickly before running to her bed and draping her jacket over the chair at the vanity.

The brunette set the books down on the bed and decided to get into her pajamas so she would be reading it in comfort. She stripped down to her undergarments and walked into the bathroom. Her towels were stocked up in the closet and she grabbed one out and placed it on the sink counter, then stripped to nakedness and stepped into the shower. Her hand reached for the knob and the warm water splashed onto her face. Emily enjoyed the shower and shampooed and conditioned her hair, then scrubbed her body down with soap and stepped out, drying her hair first with the towel and then rubbing down her body. She tossed the damp towel into the hamper next to the toilet and got dressed into the fresh pair of panties and bra that she brought with her, and then picked up the ones she took off before and tossed them into the hamper as well.

When Emily was done in the bathroom, she jogged to her bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tee. She combed out her hair and the book on her bed made her turn around and stare. Did she really want to know about that girl? Emily nodded to herself. Yes, yes she did. She put her comb down and flopped onto her bed, getting comfortable and sinking into the numerous pillows. Emily pulled the covers over herself and picked up the thick book. She braced herself and opened the book to the first page, and began reading.


	2. Annie's First Chapter

_**A/N:**_

**I was** **too excited about writing the first chapter of the book that the old lady wrote, so I had to update it quickly. Hahah. Now, the old lady is a librarian and an amazing writer, so the story will continue like any regular story, as if she made up the blond and she was her own character. That is how well the librarian knows the blond.**

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Chapter Two.

In London, England, two young lovers were celebrating in a hospital room. The woman had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl with a small head of blond hair and the prettiest blue-green eyes that they had ever seen. The father of the child was a big business man and he vowed not to spoil his daughter, but also to be the best father the world has ever seen. The mother vowed the same, although she wasn't as rich. She worked at a small bakery in the center of town. They had been trying to agree on a name for the young sprout for awhile now, and with her finally being born into the world, they agreed on Annabelle Marie. Their surname was and is Bliss. There are people who would kill for a name like hers.

As the blond girl grew up, she became more and more beautiful. Her eyes were still that breathtaking blue-green and her mother often stared into them and reminded the youngster of how gorgeous she was each and every day. The father did the same. The family was extremely close, closer than most families nowadays.

One day, Mister Bliss was told he had to move to the city of Gotham or else his business would fail. Because of that, the Bliss family packed up and headed for Gotham City by airplane. At this time, Annie was around eleven years old and had developed a lovely British accent. Their airplane landed in Gotham and the Bliss family had a big house waiting for them, pretty close to Wayne Towers. Annabelle, who was called Annie instead of her full name, grew up with Bruce Wayne from then on. He was only about one year older than her.

By the time Annie and Bruce hit the age around seventeen, Bruce began to realize just how drop-dead gorgeous Annie was. He fell in love with her but Annie didn't know what to do. He'd been her best friend and now here he was, in love like all the other boys in her life. Annie was in a definite predicament. She ran away from home that day. Her father, who was rich, sent search parties out for her. But Annie was far too clever, and she avoided them in every way that she could.

Annie was walking down the streets one day in the dark, when a man in rags approached her. She, herself, was wearing torn clothes. Her beautiful face was covered in dirt and grime and her lush hair was greasy and looked almost brown instead of her natural blond. The man grinned toothily, revealing a few missing, rotten teeth. "Why hello little lady," he said to the nineteen year old. She had been out on the streets for three years now, and she was used to being treated like rubbish.

"Ello," she sang in her lovely voice. But instead of stopping for a chat, her small body pushed her forward and she kept walking straight to the houses in the slum. The guy didn't care and he followed right after her. Annie ignored him. She knew how to live down on the streets. There was so much crime that she had to carry weapons around on her. In fact, she had bands around her legs with guns and knives attached to them. In her bra was a closed switchblade that she could take out while pretended to seduce someone. It worked every time, and death tolls increased greatly with her on the streets. But she kept reminding herself that as long as her death wasn't averaged in, everything was fine.

"Come on, pretty, just look at me and I'll be on my way." He tried to convince her. But Annie was smarter than that; she knew things weren't that simple. He would try something and she was well aware of that possibility. Annie picked up her pace, but so did he. And he was faster. The pale girl felt a rough arm on her shoulder, pulling her back. She staggered a bit and turned to glare at the man, but she was caught off guard by him having a whole army of men in clown masks behind him. He, himself, was not wearing a mask. Annie reached for the gun on her leg and she took it out and shot him, then shot a few of the clowns and made a run for it.

What Annie didn't realize was that she was headed right for her former home – right next to Wayne Towers. Annie ran and ran until she bumped into someone and she tumbled to the ground in pain. The other person was on the ground too, and Annie quickly pushed herself to her feet and was about to take off in another direction when the person she knocked down caught her arm. Annie growled and looked down at the man, when her heart broke.

The brown-haired man squinted his eyes at her but she knew he recognized her instantly, just like she did. "Annie? You're Annie!" he exclaimed. His perfect, chiseled face became one of relief. "Oh my god, Annie!" His strong arms wrapped around Annie's tiny frame and she blinked a few times. The man pulled back but kept his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place to get a good look. He looked disappointed for some reason, but damn relieved. "Say something!" he nearly demanded. "Anything, please. I haven't heard you talk in three years!"

Annie gulped and opened her mouth to speak. Her voice felt awkward when she formed those words that she hadn't said for a good three years. "H-Hello Bruce." She spoke. Annie moistened her lips and stared at him. He looked almost the same as he did three years ago, but he was twenty one now. Annie was twenty going on twenty one. It seemed just as she was looking at him, he was looking at her. Suddenly his face grew excited. "Oh your dad will be so happy to hear that you've returned!" he said, dragging her toward Wayne Towers. Annie tried to pull away, but she was feeling weak and odd, wondering why he only said dad instead of parents. At the rate she was being dragged though, Annie figured she had no chance of escape. Things would probably get explained soon.

Bruce had dragged Annie all the way to the front of her house. He knocked on the door and an old man answered. Annie's heart broke for the second time that night. She quickly recognized that old man as her father. He looked so sad and empty. His eyes looked dead and his skin was jaundice. Annie stared at him in horror and regret. When the old man's eyes shifted to her, there was a spark of life. His mouth was open in shock and he just stared at the dirty woman before him. "Annabelle…" he whispered under his breath. "Annie!" His voice got louder and he reacted quite the same as Bruce had, flinging his arms around the girl. This time though, his arms were cold and weak. His voice sounded cracked and dead as his eyes.

"Daddy," she whined into his shoulder, feeling a tear slipping down his cheek. "I'm sorry! Where's mom?" The dirty girl felt her father stiffen and she felt something liquid slip down her back. He was crying now. "Your mother died, Annie." He cried loudly. Annie's eyes widened and she gasped and cried with her father. She was gone for three years, and in those years her mother died. That wasn't what was supposed to happen!

Her father led her into the familiar living room and sat her down with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate. He sat on the couch opposite Annie and watched as his daughter sipped the warm, frothy liquid. She seemed distant though. Annie loved her mother dearly and her dad loved her even more. The family was extremely close, which made it hard on Annie to have to leave them behind three years ago. The Bliss daughter looked up at her father and she sniffled. "How did she die?" Annie asked. Her voice sounded empty, just like her father's did.

When the question hung in the air, Mister Bliss swallowed the saliva buildup in his mouth and then moistened his lips. His eyes were wet and he looked almost as bad as Annie did, but less dirty. "She had a heart attack, Annie. About a year ago." His voice still sounded dead. A fresh round of tears attacked Annie's eyes and she squeezed them shut. "Why don't you go take a shower?" her father suggested. Annie nodded and made her way upstairs to her bathroom, which was connected to her old room.

It felt nice to have the warm water slide down her body. Even after being out in the sun and nature for three harsh years, Annie was still as pale and perfect as before. Her hair was extremely long now. Annie melted in the familiar scents of her old shampoos and washes. After about an hour of cleaning up, Annie stepped out of the shower and dried off then stared at the reflection of her in the mirror. Her once brilliant blue-green eyes looked as solid and horrified as her dad's green pools of pain.

Annie dressed into pajamas and walked down the stairs. She saw her father lying on the couch, asleep. The man never slept downstairs before. There was a framed picture of her mother tucked in his arms and Annie fought the tears back. She found a notepad and pen and scribbled down that she was going to the library and then the park in an elegant scrawl.

The black car that her parents got her for her sixteenth birthday was still parked in the garage. She turned the keys in the ignition and the car quietly purred to life. Annie backed out of the driveway and drove down the road to the library. She arrived there quickly and walked around, searching for books and receiving many stares. Men were drooling over the sight of her but she ignored them all. Annie wasn't used to this life anymore. She became accustomed to killing men when they looked at her like that. Well, not all men. The dangerous ones.

The gorgeous blond picked up a book titled the Catcher in the Rye. She checked it out and made her way to the car, then drove to the park. Even in her pajamas, she still attracted men like a moth to a flame. In all honesty, Annie was sick of it. To watch each and every man's lives shatter in front of her just because of her sheer beauty was beginning to drive her up the wall. Perhaps she was insane. It wouldn't be surprising to her.

At the park, Annie cuddled up on a random wooden bench and brought her knees to her chest. She opened up the book and began reading the first page, when she heard a cackle from one of the trees. The blond chose to ignore it. She still had her effects banded to her legs and that same, trusty switchblade was still stuffed in her bra. The laughter in the background didn't make her falter in her reading at all. She read on and on in Holden Caulfield's point of view and the laughter only grew louder and more irritating. Still, Annie didn't even look up. Her soft blond ringlets blew magnificently in the slight breeze.

Eventually, Annie neared the second chapter. She blinked when the big 'Chapter Two' came to her eyes, and she just simply continued on reading. There was a streetlight right next to the park bench that she sat on, so lack of light was not a problem. The maniacal laughter grew louder, or perhaps closer? Annie wasn't sure, but she tuned it out and kept reading about Holden's life. It was proving to be a marvelous novel so far.

Being a fast reader, only a few minutes had passed and Annie was already halfway through the second chapter. A couple more minutes flew by and Annie neared the third chapter. She was actually about to turn the page onto the next chapter when two warm, gloved hands went around her neck and broke off her air supply. Annie dropped the book to the ground and gasped for air. The person choking her wouldn't allow it though. He dragged her face up and she saw him for the first time. His hair was green and greasy, face chalk white and two big black circles around his eyes. On his lips was smeared red cream covering horrible scars on both of his cheeks near his mouth. Annie's hands flew up to meet his and her small fingers struggled to pry him from her neck.

Finally the man let her neck go and Annie took in a breath eagerly. She calmed down and inched away from the man as he circled around the bench to sit down right next to her. Annie reached for one of her knives, but realized she was wearing pajama pants so the bands around her legs did no good unless she pulled the pants off. That would alert him a little, would it not? Annie gulped and figured she'd have to seduce him and get the switchblade out of her bra in the process.

But before Annie could even think about seducing him, he leaned dangerously close to her and held a shining silver knife against her cheek. Fear and anger flashed through her eyes and he noticed it with excitement. When he spoke, yellow teeth poked out and his scars tugged gently. "You look nervous." He said, and he nodded as if she said she was. "Is it the scars? Do you wanna know how I got 'em?" Annie shook her head no but he looked up and opened his mouth in thought, then looked back down at her. "So I had a wife. She was _beautiful_, like you, who tells me I worry too much, who tells me I ought to smile more. Who gambles, and gets in deep with the sharks. One day they carve her face, and we had no money for surgery. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again. I just want her to know that I don't care about the scars. So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this to myself." He turned his head fully so Annie could see the scars clearly. "And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me. She leaves. Now I see the funny side. Now I'm always smiling!" With that, he began laughing crazily again and Annie took the opportunity to reach into her bra and yank out the switchblade.

When the knife was in Annie's hands, the clown stopped laughing. "Who are you?" she asked. The madman grinned. "The Joker. Here's my card if you don't believe me." He said, tossing a Joker playing card at her. Annie held it up and examined it, furrowing her eyebrows. This man was crazy! Would it actually be possible to escape from him? Annie almost doubted it, but she never found herself unable to escape before.

"You really _are _beautiful," he said, smoothing his hair attractively. Annie's heartbeat increased and she glared at him. "What do you want from me?" she snapped and sent the hunched man into another random fit of giggles. Annie backed away again but he caught her leg with his strong, gloved hands. She gulped. "I've heard about you." He said. "From people in the _downtown_ areas. What was a pretty girl like you doing all by your lonesome there?" It was as if he was teasing the blond. "I took care of myself fine. I'm still alive aren't I?" she replied, as if his words were an insult. In a way, they really were. He wasn't giving her enough credit. But that was not what the Joker had intended to do. He knew how well she handled weapons. "It would seem so." He giggled. Annie kept her face as calm as ever.

The Joker put his knife in his pocket and gestured for Annie to do the same. "As much as blood does **excite** me, there doesn't _need_ to be any knives out right now." He said childishly. "And blood certainly excites me."

Annie hesitantly put her switchblade back in her bra and eyed him down. He was still hunched over a bit as he stood and Annie could tell that he was actually a handsome man behind that makeup. She would have asked why he wore those layers of cream if she didn't think he was going to snap at her and go into a sappy story like the one about his wife again. The different expressions on his face had scared her quite a bit when his face was inches from hers, telling his story about his wife. His _beautiful_ wife, he made sure she knew that small fact.

As soon as Annie was caught off guard and had no knife in her grip, the Joker lunged for her and held a cloth over her nose and mouth. When she inhaled, she lost consciousness quickly and the Joker carried her off to the big truck that was parked just outside of the park gates.


End file.
